Harry Potter and the Ties that Bind
by apocalypsemeow
Summary: With the fall of Dumbledore, the rise of the Dark, and knowledge of the Horcruxes, Harry is more desperate than ever to find a way to become the hero everyone expects him to be. Help and power can come from the most unexpected of places. See summary insid
1. Family Vacation

**Harry Potter and the Ties That Bind**

A Harry Potter/Anita Blake Crossover

_**Summary: **__With the fall of Dumbledore, the rising of the Darkness, and knowledge of the Horcruxes, Harry is more desperate than ever to find a way to become the hero everyone expects him to be. Help can come from the most unexpected of places, as can new powers. SuperPowered!Harry. HP/AB crossover. AU, Post-HPB, Post Harlequin._

_**Disclaimer: **__It's the standard: I own nothing, HP is Rowlings, AB is Hamiltons. Nothing is profiting, except perhaps my own amusement. _

_**Notes: **__While having read HP and AB books is not absolutely necessary, it will be extremely helpful. As one might expect, this story will span at least the summer after HPB, and maybe into the fall, focusing on HP in St. Louis, and the characters in AB, rather than others from HP; though they will make an appearance. HP is on an accelerated timeline so that he is almost 17 as Anita is 28. _

_**A/N: **__The Dursleys are extremely OOC in this chapter. Fear not, all is not as it seems…_

Chapter One: A Family Vacation

It was the third week of June as Harry Potter climbed into Uncle Vernon's brand new Mercedes. His belongings were safely stowed in the extra-large trunk space, and the "new car odor" was beginning to creep into his nostrils. Harry wrinkled his nose as he adjusted his glasses.

"Don't scratch the door." Vernon Dursley seemed strangely happy, considering he had been forced to pick up his least-favorite relative that afternoon. Harry watched him lovingly stroke the steering wheel, as he steered the car out of the train station, before turning around to face him, "I've just gotten a raise, Potter. Grunnings has finally realized what an asset I am to the company, and have rewarded me in a fitting manner…"

Vernon didn't seem to notice that Harry had tuned out by that point, and was currently staring out the window, watching the scenery roll by. He figured it would be his last opportunity, after all. Sighing, he looked down at the locket – the fake Horcrux – that he held in his hand. All of that work he and Professor Dumbledore had put into it. He cursed Voldemort and R.A.B., whoever he was, for his headmaster's death. Harry's brows furrowed, as he gripped the locket tightly. Uncle Vernon chose that moment to check to see that he was listening.

"So then we plan to- Are you even listening to me, Potter?!" Harry murmured in affirmation, and began paying attention. Vernon continued, "Like I was saying… As Grunnings has finally given me the raise I deserve, your Aunt Marge will be coming in two weeks. We plan to tour the United States, before we return in Mid-August. _You_ will be staying at Number Four, and keep up with your chores while we are away. I've already spoken to Arabella Figg, and she says that she is willing and able to check in on you every once in a while.

Now, should there be a single thing wrong with the house upon our return, be it a dish placed back wrongly or a single chore neglected; there will be Hell to pay. Not to mention should any harm come to the house…" He trailed off as they pulled into the driveway.

Harry hurriedly exited the vehicle, and pulled his things out of the trunk. Like most sixteen – almost seventeen – year old boys, he had no desire to spend more time with his family than he needed to. Unlike most teenage boys, however, his reasons were entirely sound. He nodded at Uncle Vernon, and politely thanked him for the ride as he made his way toward the house.

While his relationship with his relatives was, at best, strained, Harry felt that this summer would pass far more easily than many others. With the Dursleys going away for what could well be several weeks, he would have the house to himself…and would be entirely alone, if one discounted his 'watchers'. Harry was sure of the fact that he would not be able to visit his friends and that they, likewise, would be unable to visit him.

He pondered the benefits of the increased 'security' on the part of the Order… From what he had seen so far, it was not a great help. Turning his thoughts to a different topic, he shook himself and entered the house.

Outwardly, he appeared to be fairly calm, if a little preoccupied. Harry glanced outside and around the yard, making note of the places he expected Order members to be camped out. He could not say that it was a comfort, per se, to have his constant watchers, especially considering their effectiveness two years ago. It was a small assurance, however. They were also guaranteed not to bother him; Harry would be able to plan in peace.

And planning was something Harry was hoping to do quite a bit of. With Professor Dumbledore's death, he had lost his mentor – his guide in the quest to defeat Voldemort. Without him, Harry was at a bit of a loss. He had always had someone to rely on, whether it was his headmaster, Ron, Hermione, or even Sirius, he had never been totally alone.

But now, it was starting to sink in: It would come down to Harry and Voldemort, no one else. No one would be able to cast the final spells for him. No one would hold his hand as he went off to his quite possible death. No one would be able to give him a power boost, insuring his victory.

Sure, all of his friends – Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Luna, and Neville in particular – would try to be right there with him, and aid him wherever possible. But Harry had the nagging feeling that even after the events at the Department of Mysteries and the Death Eater attack on Hogwarts, none of them knew just what fighting the war would entail. Things were about to become a whole lot more ugly, as well as bloody, fast.

Professor Dumbledore's death… The fall of the mighty Headmaster of Hogwarts, the leader of the light. It was a major blow to the light forces, and everyone knew it. Harry sighed, as he began to put away his belongings. Without their 'leader', the light side would soon be in disarray, as the Death Eaters and Voldemort would be running rampant in the streets. Figuratively speaking, he hoped. Harry feared that that was exactly what Voldemort had in mind. By knocking out the top piece in the game, they had – quite effectively – brought about cause for the light forces to run around like headless chickens.

Which, Harry supposed, was not so different for the ministry, as they had been operating with a 'headless chicken' style of action for quite some time. But for the Order… the change was far more drastic. The late headmaster had been venerated by all; the Order members followed him with blind devotion. Professor Dumbledore's second in command, Minerva McGonagall, was revered with only a fraction of that. Harry wondered where Professor McGonagall's priorities would lie – First and foremost; she was now Headmistress of Hogwarts; only second came her Order duties. But the war had picked up speed, and things were now rolling down a steep hill. And there was only one way to bring the downslide to a halt.

Harry had to defeat Voldemort. But to do so, he had to find the remaining five horcruxes. And then stand up to him in a battle to the death. There was no simple or pretty way to put it. One of them would die, and Harry had the nagging feeling that it would be highly unlikely for him to come out… unscathed. Not to mention all of his friends. While Harry was confident that several Order members would be able to handle themselves, he worried about those untrained in defensive fighting. And his friends… While they were all alive after the Department of Mysteries battle, Harry held no illusions. If the Death Eaters they had encountered really wished for their deaths, a few killing curses would have been flung around.

The killing curse. _Avada Kedavra_. How simple those two words were. How harmless they are apart, separate. But how much pain they can cause when together… Not for the recipient, of course; they would be dead. Those who knew them, however… Were left with a deeper pain than the Cruciatus could cause. That was something that had to end. But those left in the wake of the killing curse would remember their losses forever, and mourn them. Each death added to the weight on Harry that pressed upon him like an ocean presses upon an island. Each death caused the water to rise and threaten to overwhelm him.

"Harry! Could you come down here, please? Your uncle and I wish to speak to you," Harry's morbid musings were broken by his aunt's shrill voice. The fact that she was seemingly…polite surprised him more than the actual call. He got up, schooled his features, and walked down the stairs to the perfectly pristine living room. He raised his eyebrows: The Dursleys had moved their furniture.

Now, there was a single chair directly across from the rest of the furnishings. It did look as though they had tried to make it comfortable; the single armchair was easily the coziest in the room, and had two end tables next to it, one adorned with a vase filled with flowers, and the other with a glass of water. Seeing his relatives all sitting on the couch, he went over to the plush armchair, and sat down across from them, trying not to feel as though he was on trial. They were all wearing somewhat forced smiles.

"Now, I know we've had some rough times in the past…Harry," Vernon began, "I know that we may not have been everything you would have looked for in terms of loving relatives, but we have kept you safe and alive. In turn, we know that you haven't been the most cooperative of houseguests…"

"This is the last summer you'll have to put up with me, then. I turn seventeen at the end of July. The blood protections will be wearing off then, and I'll be out of the house. Come to think of it, I suggest you are too," Harry interrupted. The Dursleys paled at that. He continued, "I'm sure that at least someone within the Death Eater ranks, or who is sympathetic to them knows just who lives at Number Four, Privet Drive,"

Vernon cleared his throat and changed the subject, "Ah, well… We'll look into that… As I told you before, I've been given a raise…"

"'Much deserved', I know, I know," Harry muttered to himself, looking away. Vernon looked at him sharply, before continuing, "Which I have rightfully earned. As such, we and your Aunt Marge will be going on holiday, in America, in two weeks. This is a very expensive vacation, mind you, but," Vernon puffed up in pride, no doubt about to mention… "With my promotion, it's no trouble. We plan on staying in the finest hotels, visiting all the sites… We're going to go to the Grand Canyon, see the Statue of Liberty… The works, you know-"

Petunia elbowed her husband, and glared at him, "Get to the point, Vernon," she hissed out of the corner of her mouth, before smiling back at Harry.

"Ah, well. Right then… We are going to have a pleasant summer. Our vacation _will _be a most excellent one, for what we've paid, and it just wouldn't do to start off the summer on the wrong foot now, would it? We've decided to overlook your past behavior; we are _going_ to get along for these next two weeks. Understood?"

Harry looked from his Aunt, to his Uncle, then back again. He had no idea what brought about this change of heart. It slowly began to dawn upon him, as Aunt Petunia stared at him (in what she surely thought to be a caring and compassionate manner) and asked gently, "Is there anything you'd like to share with us about your school year?"

The smile on Vernon's face became visibly strained. He hated all mention of magic, especially regarding 'That school for freakishness'. Harry looked suspiciously at his Aunt.

"Er… Not particularly…Nothing major, really,"

"Did something happen to your Headmaster?" He looked at all of them piercingly. While Vernon and Dudley's heartily sympathetic expressions were laughably false, Aunt Petunia sported an expression that could be likened, with enough imagination, to concern. Harry felt a pang of regret and sorrow deep within his chest.

"Well, Professor Dumbledore died. That's been…ah, difficult to say the least," Harry was marginally surprised to see that this news did not seem to be much of a surprise to his relatives, "But, you knew that, didn't you? Is that why you've been so nice to me? Merlin, I knew that there had to be a reason. You'd never just be nice to me, just to be nice, would you? So, what's in it for you?" Harry scowled. Petunia Dursley cringed. Vernon started to swell up, then seemed to deflate.

"Your headmaster sent us a letter. Seems as though he knew that he would be dying. Reminded us of our 'responsibilities' to you, and that there's only about a month left that we're stuck with you," At this, Petunia jabbed her husband with her elbow, "Er, I mean, a month that we've got to cherish with you!" he and Dudley laughed heartily- Petunia's expression became pinched- "And, since it's really only two weeks, we figured we ought to make the most of it,"

Harry remained suspicious of their motives, certain that there was more to their reasons than simply not wanting to deny a dying man his last wishes. Or, at least those voiced to the Dursleys. Nevertheless, he was not about to pass up an opportunity to have a more peaceful summer.

"Alright," He held out his hand toward the Dursley family, "Truce?"

His hand was engulfed by Vernon's meaty one. They shook hands. "Yes. Truce." The first sincere, non-malicious, smile Harry had seen all night broke across his face. Dudley's chubby features spread out in a grin, and Petunia sighed in relief. Harry wondered if she had thought he was going to turn down their 'offer'. His returning smile was genuine, if a little uncertain.

"Well I think that this calls for some celebration! How about some wine, Harry?" Harry murmured his assent. He was now confused about his uncle's jovial attitude. Was their truce really that much of a big deal?

Petunia moved across the room to the cabinet and began to pull out glasses, smiling to herself all the while. She took them to her husband before returning back to her seat.

Vernon moved off towards his liquor cabinet. He snuck a furtive glance back at his spouse, hands hesitating over the whiskey, before passing over it to reach for the wine. But not before he picked the bottle up, and tipped some into his own glass.

Dudley motioned Harry closer to him.

"So… um, Harry… I guess I just wanted to say thanks for not laughing in our faces. That would kind of have sucked…" He chuckled nervously, "I, uh… also wanted to say that I'm sorry for beating you up when we were younger. It was… not very nice of me?" Dudley glanced at his mother, who gave a small jerk of her head. Dudley looked like he was having some difficulties, but tried to press forward anyway, "I know we may not…"

A smile ghosted across Harry's face before his expression returned to its calm mask as he interrupted his cousin, "It's okay, Dudley. I understand. I can't say that I totally forgive you, or even that I _do _forgive you… But I can understand the importance of putting the past behind," His expression darkened, "All that we can do is move ahead, yeah?" Dudley nodded vigorously.

"Though, I would like to know about this sudden change of heart…it seems so uncharacteristic of Uncle Vernon, and, well, the rest of you too…"

Dudley looked at him seriously, "Well, y'know, dad's been in a very celebratory mood since he got that promotion. I think it makes him open to some suggestions that he wouldn't normally like. I still don't think he really likes them, but since he's in such a good mood, doesn't mind so much.

And, well… we've all been considering things since two years ago. I know that over this past year, mum and your headmaster were corresponding. Your headmaster seemed to think that he ought to be checking in on you, and us. He sent her lots of letters, which she had both dad and I read, and some books,"

Harry felt his stomach flip. He had the horrible feeling he knew just what sort of books Professor Dumbledore would have sent the Dursleys, especially if he was aiming for them to be sympathetic towards him.

"The books were about you. Not entirely, but gave some back story. It was really weird. Like something out of a fairy tale. A lot to take in, y'know?" Dudley leaned towards Harry conspiratorially, "Did you really stab a 100 meter long snake with a flaming sword that jumped out of a hat that appeared suddenly on your head?"

Harry frowned. He had thought that his former headmaster would give them books that contained… More accurate versions of the story. He smiled at Dudley, "Not quite. It was more like 30 meters, and the sword wasn't flaming… It did come out of a magical hat, though, brought to me by the headmaster's phoenix. Which is a magical bird, that I suppose _does_ burst into flame…"

Dudley shook his head in awe, before getting back to his tale, "But, you know dad, he fears all sorts of your freakish-" Petunia fixed her most stern expression on him, "er, wizardly ways. Your headmaster explained to us that he was dying… His final request to us before the letters stopped was that we 'show you some small kindness', before you go on to complete your final task. What is it you're supposed to do, Harry?"

Harry's heart sank. What reason did Professor Dumbledore have to be telling the Dursleys these sorts of things? He didn't really want to answer his cousin, but didn't want to lie to him and ruin their newfound truce, either.

He sighed, and answered his cousin, "I can't really tell you, Dudley… It's very complicated, but basically, there's this very bad wizard – I'm the only person who can kill him, and he's practically unkillable-" Harry stopped speaking as his uncle returned with the drinks and handed them out.

"To a wonderful summer holiday!" Vernon proclaimed loudly (he was already getting a bit red in the face), and they all toasted to that sentiment. Harry had to smile at that; how many of his summers had really been 'wonderful'? He doubted that this one would be much different, even if his relatives were actively trying to be kind.

They spent a little while longer trying to make conversation, but it was hard to find a 'safe' topic that they could all participate in. It was just after 8 o'clock when Harry excused himself to turn in for the night.

Harry tossed himself onto his bed, and stared at the ceiling, trying to keep his thoughts from straying to the war, or his deceased Headmaster. He turned his mind toward Ron and Hermione. He wondered what the pair was up to at that moment. Hermione was probably revising for her NEWTs. Ron was probably avoiding doing so. Harry was not looking forward to the year ahead. Hermione would be constantly nagging him and Ron… That is, if they returned to Hogwarts.

Harry knew that his beloved school might not reopen in the fall and that even if it did, he would not be likely to attend. The hunt for the horcruxes would likely take him a long while, and it was probably that he would not be near Hogwarts for most of the journey. Ron and Hermione had promised to accompany him.

Harry knew he needed help, but hated to pull them into what he felt was 'his' war. Especially Hermione – Harry thought that it would practically kill her to miss her last year of schooling. And Ron was not what Harry would deem 'ready to go on the adventure of a lifetime'. It was almost unfair to his friends to strive to protect them from a war that was coming to them, but he could not help but try.

But Harry had been given a mission, and intended to see it completed, even if it killed him.

It was with these heavy thoughts filling his mind that Harry finally fell into a fitful and uneven sleep.

It was Saturday, the fifth of July – The day the Dursleys were due to leave for America – that the Dursleys received a phone call. It was what would later be known as "The Phone Call that Changed Everything" to Harry.

The past two weeks had passed almost pleasantly, Harry reflected, as he bent down on his knees to weed the garden. While the time spent with his relatives had passed in civility (they had mostly tried to avoid each other; Petunia on the other hand, continued to try interacting with him), it was hardly as if the Dursleys allowed him to go without any chores… They were just less haphazard, and fewer menial tasks showed up on his work list than before.

Harry didn't mind puttering about in the garden, he supposed. There was a calming affect as he dug about in the soft soil, pulling out weeds and caring for Aunt Petunia's roses and peonies. He supposed they were more _his_ flowers than _hers_, as he had been doing all the work to tend them. The Dursleys had definitely noticed his interest in gardening, and played upon it to the fullest.

Petunia Dursley had been standing inside, just out of view, as she watched her nephew in the garden. She was not a kind woman, often much the opposite, but she regretted the fact that she had not done something to make Harry's life easier. He was just such a _nice_ boy, and she and her family had never done anything to show their support.

After reading about him and his many exploits, she could admit to herself that she was now a bit in awe of her unwanted relative. More of what she felt was pity, though, than anything else. The fact that she had played a part in making his life Hell for the better part of eleven years was no consolation.

But she allowed herself to feel no remorse. As Harry had said, they were moving on, now…

Petunia's observation of Harry was cut short, by the shrill ring of the telephone.

"Hello, Dursley residence. How may I help you?"

"Petunia?" A voice wheezed into Petunia's ear, "Put my brother on the phone. I need to speak with him. It appears as though I've come down with a bug," Even ill, Marge managed to retain an air of bossiness, and contempt for her sister-in-law.

"VERNON!" Petunia called, "Your sister is on the phone! She does not sound well…"

Her husband heaved himself off the living room couch, and made his way into the kitchen. He took the receiver, shooing Petunia away, and answered his sister with some trepidation.

"Marge? Where have you been? You were supposed to get here twenty minutes ago! We've got to leave here in two hours! Is everything alright?"

"What do you think, you great oaf?!" Vernon was taken aback. His sister rarely called him names. She continued grumpily, "I seem to have become ill – they say it looks like a bad case of the flu – and I won't be better for another two weeks, yet. I'm terribly sorry, but it looks as though I'll have to cancel on you. Perhaps another time…"

Vernon was at a loss as he put the phone back in its cradle. He had already made arrangements for _four_ people; it was far too late to simply cancel, and bring it down to three. He thought of the money he had already spent, and what a waste it would be

Calling Petunia back in, he dreaded what he knew needed to be done.

"Marge is terribly ill, dear. She won't be able to accompany us on our tour of America," he trailed off looking at his wife's face.

Petunia pursed her lips and looked out the window to the backyard. Looked out to where her nephew was up to his elbows in dirt and flowers. "You know there's only one thing that we can really do, Vernon," She stated matter-of-factly.

Vernon Dursley sighed. He had known what was coming, and still did not like it, "Are you sure, darling? I'm sure that there is someone else who would take the ticket. Maybe one of Dudley's friends?"

"It's too short notice."

"Maybe one of my co-workers?"

"Are you _trying_ to rub your promotion in their faces? Or suck up to your superiors?"

"Are you absolutely sure there's no one else?" Vernon Dursley was not normally one to whine, but just couldn't seem to help himself. While the entire family had gotten along fairly well for the most part, Vernon was still not prepared to accept Harry as a member of his family.

"Vernon. You listen to me, and listen closely: That boy is a hero in his world. He may not be our favorite person, but I can guarantee you that _he _is the reason we are alive today. Corresponding with his headmaster, I found out that there are blood protections on this house that ensure his safety. Those go both ways. Even if he was not here, the dark wizards would know who his relatives are.

Now, I know you don't like to think of it. I hardly enjoy it either, but we do owe him something. It's the least we can do to give him a bit of a vacation before he walks out of our lives," Petunia looked at him sharply, her features pinched in an expression of sternness, "I'll leave it up to you to, ah, invite him along. Get to it, now!"

Vernon watched his wife turn away and head back upstairs to finish packing her bags. He reluctantly waddled out the back door, and waved to get his nephew's attention. Harry looked up at him, wondering what could be the matter.

"Boy, pack your bags. Your Aunt Marge has come down with the flu. You've got twenty minutes to pack your bags and settle things with the rest of _your_ people. If you're not in the car in the next hour, we'll reconsider bringing you,"

Harry stared at him in shock for a moment, then jumped up and began tossing the garden tools away. He could not believe his luck! He, Harry Potter, was going to America!

Harry ran up the stairs, and after rushing through a two minute shower, he began throwing his belongings into his trunk. Stopping for a moment to think, he added all of his textbooks, and his treasures hidden under the loose floorboard. All of his few possessions packed, Harry put on his best muggle clothes, and sat down to write his letters.

_To Whom It May Concern:_

_I am going to be going on a much needed vacation with my relatives for the duration of this summer. We will be out of the country, so I (hope that I) will be hard to find. Please do not try to contact me. I'd like to have some time to think about the events of the past year, and plan for the next. _

_While it may be difficult, I hope, and expect, even, that you can respect my wishes- at least in this. I'd remind you all that I am legally an adult this July, and that you have no hold over me once that happens._

_I wish you all the best. Do not worry about me, and I shall contact you as I am able._

_Harry J. Potter_

_Dear Ron and Hermione-_

_How's your summer going? Mine is going strangely well, actually…Guess what? The Dursleys are taking me on vacation with them to America! We're going to go on a tour of the place… Uncle Vernon says it's very expensive._

_Funny thing, really… You wouldn't think the Dursleys would be taking me with them, right? Well, Marge got sick (yes, Ron, this is the woman I inflated), so I get to go! And the Dursleys have been half-decent, this summer. It's quite strange, their change of attitude. I was almost wondering if someone had cursed them, or something- since I would have thought that being nice to me would be pure torture! What a silly idea; I'm not complaining, though._

_Hermione, don't worry about me, as I know you are. I'm doing well, and I'm looking forward to seeing you guys when I return. And yes, I am keeping up with my studies. I'll be bringing my summer work with me to America. _

_I'm also afraid that I won't be able to make it to Bill and Fleur's wedding. I won't be able to get back in time from the trip, and if I do come, you know that there would be no way that the Order would let me walk away from that unguarded… Speaking of the Order, I'm kind of hoping that they won't be able to track me down; really looking forward to some time without my watchers._

_Give my best to Bill and Fleur, I'll see you in a few weeks,_

_Harry_

_P.S. Herm- Have you looked into the initials, yet?_

Harry sealed up his letters, and gave them to Hedwig.

"These go to the Burrow, and this one to Order Headquarters. Or maybe to Professor McGonagall… Now, I'm going to be in America. Probably for the rest of the summer-Will you be able to find me there?" She hooted affectionately, and nipped his finger in response. Harry laughed, "Of course you will! Now, hurry off and take these; I'll see you in the United States of America!"

He surveyed his room with one last long look. This would be the last time he set foot within its cramped walls. Harry smirked to himself: Maybe he would even find a hint to the secrets of the horcruxes in America. But then he laughed: Not likely.

By then, almost an hour had passed. Harry pulled his trunk downstairs with alacrity, still wary of the underage magic restrictions, and shoved it into the trunk. He even helped his aunt and cousin put their suitcases in as well, before hopping into the car. All of the Dursleys were practically bouncing with excitement; Harry was still a bit wary of their attitude. Besides, he could not bring himself to burst their bubble of jubilation, especially as he was feeling the same way- He just hid it better, still surprised by his luck.

"Everyone ready?" Vernon asked, as he started the car. Dudley and Petunia cheered. Vernon turned to look at Harry, "Well, Harry… Aren't you going to cheer with us?"

Harry looked at him strangely, "Cheer? Why do I need to cheer? I… uh, don't think so…"

"But we should all cheer like a happy family going on vacation!" Petunia added in helpfully. Harry sighed, resigned to his fate with the 'new and improved' Dursleys. "Okay".

"Alright, then," Vernon asked again, "Everyone ready?" Two voices again answered him with an enthusiastic cheer. After a pointed look from the other family members, Harry chimed in with a less-than-excited "Yay."

As the car pulled out of the driveway and began to drive towards the airport, a shrill voice could be heard saying, "C'mon Harry! Let's sing!"


	2. Welcome to St Louis

**Harry Potter and the Ties That Bind**

A Harry Potter/Anita Blake Crossover

_**Summary: **__With the fall of Dumbledore, the rising of the Darkness, and knowledge of the Horcruxes, Harry is more desperate than ever to find a way to become the hero everyone expects him to be. Help can come from the most unexpected of places, as can new powers. SuperPowered!Harry. HP/AB crossover. AU, Post-HPB, Post Harlequin._

_**Disclaimer: **__It's the standard: I own nothing, HP is Rowlings, AB is Hamiltons. Nothing is profiting, except perhaps my own amusement. _

_**Notes: **__While having read HP and/or AB books is not absolutely necessary, it will be extremely helpful. As one might expect, this story will span at least the summer after HPB, and maybe into the fall, focusing on HP in St. Louis, and the characters in AB, rather than others from HP; though they will make an appearance. HP is on an accelerated timeline, so that he is almost 17 as Anita is 28. _

Chapter Two: St. Louis

_Dear Harry,_

_We're glad to see that you are doing well. It's great to hear that the Dursleys aren't being__right prats! Glad to know that _someone'_s treating you nicely! __Sorry Harry, that was Ronald stealing my quill. I'm at the Burrow now, helping to get ready for the wedding. Are you sure you can't make it? We'd be glad to see you, especially since we had planned to go on that trip with you later._

_But that's okay, Harry. If you need a break, we'll be here when you get back! Herm and I will be ready and waiting for you- we're all in this together, right? _

_Like you asked, I've been looking into the initials. Ron and I think we may have found something. Remember how Snuffles had a brother who was killed in his youth? He looks like a good suspect. Also, I was wondering if you had any ideas on how to break the toys. We've not come up with an idea yet. We will be sure to keep looking, though… If only I had access to the Library!_

_I'm sure Harry doesn't care about the library, right mate? How's the trip going? I'd love to go to America! When we told Mum that you wouldn't be coming to the wedding, she practically burst into tears! Then immediately set about making you this care package, confident the Dursleys wouldn't feed you in America, or something. Tried to tell her that they're being nice to you, but I think she just wanted an excuse to send you some food. So, hope you enjoy it!_

_Strangely enough, there doesn't seem to be much new on the Riddle side. (Hermione told me to write that). __Oh, quiet Ronald. Like he said, there haven't been any attacks, which seems really strange. I suppose he'll be off planning, or something. __Either way, no worries over here!_

_Here's to your fun and relaxing summer!_

_Love, _

_Hermione__and __Ron_

It had been almost two weeks since Harry Potter and his relatives had arrived in the United States of America. After their plane landed in New York, they had gone to see the Statue of Liberty – Vernon couldn't comprehend why a _statue_ was an important national monument. He loudly pointed out that he had seen better in museums. Dudley, who had been learning about U.S. history in school tried to explain its historical significance. Without much luck – before heading off to see Niagara falls.

They made the requisite stop in Washington DC, where Harry and Petunia were quite taken with the Botanical Gardens. Vernon was impressed with the Pentagon and White House, while Dudley had discovered fast food. His new favorite thing was the "Double Big Mac with Fries", also known as the No. 2 combo. Dudley insisted on eating at a fast food restaurant for at least one meal per day; his parents knew it was unhealthy…but they were on vacation, so a little indulgence was allowed.

By far, Harry's favorite place had been Walt Disney World. He was enthralled by the Fairy Tale castles, and amazing special effects on some of the rides. After seeing some of "The Magic of Disney", Dudley had made a few comments along the lines of "Who needs magic when you've got this?" Harry was tempted to agree, especially when he thought of all the turmoil in his own magical realm. All of the Dursleys had let themselves enjoy the "Happiest Place on Earth". He and Dudley had gone on all of the rides they possibly could while Vernon and Petunia went to show after show; by the time they had to leave, no one wanted to go.

They had spent the last four days there, and were now flying to Missouri to visit St. Louis, which the travel agent had apparently insisted was a "Must See" location. She neglected to mention exactly _why _it was so popular, only suggested that they take a look around.

Harry looked down at the clouds floating below the plane. Who would have thought that he would be where he was now? Not him, nor either of his best friends, it looked like. As he re-read the letter from Ron and Hermione, he smiled to himself. It looked like they were doing exactly what he had pictured; hopefully they were having as good a summer as he was.

As the plane descended into the St. Louis airport, Harry was surprised to see that the town seemed to be distinctly divided. There were the suburbs, like in any normal town; the business district; the 'nicer' homes; and the 'clubby' area. But there was also a separate section. He noticed that it had a wholly different feel… there was no physical change- but there was a separation all the same.

As Harry wondered just what exactly the distinction was, the plane skidded down the runway, and the announcer's perky voice washed through the cabin.

"_Welcome to St. Louis, Missouri! Please check all around your seats, and be sure to remove all of your belongings from the storage areas. We are extremely pleased that you have chosen to fly AmeriAir, and hope the experience was a pleasant one. Keep us for your next flight, and enjoy your stay!"_

"Come along, Harry! We've got to get checked in at the hotel before we go out for dinner!"

His relatives' strange behavior had not changed much over the past weeks. If anything, they only seemed to be more cordial, and he could almost admit to himself that maybe they _had_ changed for the better. But he was still unsure. Something seemed too sudden, too abrupt, and too _unnatural_ about the quick turnaround.

It seemed his suspicions were well founded.

After checking into their hotel rooms, Harry and the Dursleys went out for a casual dinner in the hotel restaurant before splitting off to go to their rooms. Harry considered himself to be extremely lucky – Uncle Vernon had booked three rooms at each hotel; one for him and Aunt Petunia, one for Dudley, and one for Marge. The separate rooms ensured some extra privacy.

That extra privacy turned out to be a blessing, that evening.

Harry had showered and dressed for bed like he had on all previous nights. He was exhausted; traveling by plane seemed to wear him out more than other means of travel. While floo, portkeys, and apparition were disorienting, there was something just _draining_ about sitting in an airplane for several hours. Or a car… or most motored vehicles, really.

The bed beckoned to him, and Harry was just getting ready to throw himself upon it, when a sealed envelope appeared in front of him.

Harry's stomach dropped at the suspiciously familiar green spidery writing and heavy parchment. With shaking hands, he drew his wand from his bag and checked it for spells. Finding it clean, he plucked it from the air and withdrew the letter within.

_Dear Harry,_

_There are so many things I wish I could have taught you. There are so many things that I regret._

_I regret having to leave you when I did. I regret not beginning to prepare you sooner. My boy, there are so many things that I wish I could have done. _

_My time has come to an end, and responsibility falls to you now, as much as I wish it different. There are other leaders of the light, but you are their savior, Harry. Whether they know the truth or not, instinctively, they know. I deeply regret not preparing you for this burden._

_But enough of my regrets. There is nothing for you to do now, at this very moment, if you have received this as I planned. _

_Yes, Harry. I knew my death was imminent. Destroying a Horcrux is a far more dangerous task than accessing one – you saw some of the effect with my hand. Yet another task falling to you: Find a way to safely dispose of them._

_Back to the matter at hand… Knowing that I was soon to move on to the next great adventure, I began to write to your aunt. I must confess, that not all within the letters were as they seemed-_

_And here I hope you can forgive me for one of my most heinous crimes yet, dear boy-_

_Did you notice a change in your relatives' behavior before they left for America? Did they perhaps behave less antagonistically towards you? I can only imagine that you spent hours puzzling over their change of behavior._

_Again, I apologize. It is so hard to simply put the words on paper, when in truth I have been putting so much _more_ onto their letters._

_Are you familiar with the Hate Potion? It reveals the most egregious faults and habits to the drinker using a sample of the target's hair, bone, or blood. The use of human samples causes this potion to be classified as 'dark', so you may not be aware of it._

_This potion was preposterously easy to modify- I simply altered it to be absorbed into the skin, and reversed the effects so that the drinker believes the target to be a wonderful and amazing person, regardless of their faults. _

_This potion, I coated the letters to your family with. _

_I thought that if I could not be there to guide you on the rest of your journey, the least I could do would be to provide you with a few weeks of peace with your aunt and uncle. _

_Fortunately, or unfortunately, the effects are not permanent. They should begin to wear off within the next few days, depending on how much was absorbed. So, I strongly recommend that you leave the Dursley home before they return, preferably immediately after your birthday. As you know, your birthday is when the wards fall – It is highly likely that Death Eaters know of your location. _

_I hope you are having a pleasurable summer. Enjoy yourself and remember to live life to the fullest, Harry. _

_Sincerely, _

_Albus Dumbledore_

As soon as he was finished reading, the letter burst into periwinkle flames. Dropping it to the floor, Harry sat heavily on the bed. He supposed that several things were now evident, after Dumbledore explained what he had done.

Sighing, Harry cursed Dumbledore's ability to complicate things even after his death. He was not eagerly anticipating the end of the potion's thrall. The Dursleys would be angry, and rightfully so. And what was he supposed to do until then? Pretend that everything was running smoothly?

But that was exactly what he _had_ been doing. Subconsciously, Harry supposed that he had known something was not quite right in their manner. It wasn't all that hard to figure out, really. No one could possibly make that huge of a turnaround alone…

Harry's thoughts wandered back toward what would happen when the effects wore off. If the Dursleys left him behind, he would be stuck in the United States with no way to return home – he doubted that they would take the time to toss his ticket at him before they kicked him out. If they did not leave him behind, the rest of the vacation would be wholly unpleasant. Harry was unsure of which option he would prefer.

Then again, there was another possibility. If the Dursleys chose to give him his plane ticket and send him back to England, he would be able to meet Ron and Hermione at Godric's Hollow. They would be able to get a head start on their Horcrux Hunt.

But that was unlikely. Harry supposed that he would just have to wait and see. He would not have to wait _too_ long, after all.

The next day, Harry and his unsuspecting family were dining in the hotel lobby when Dudley saw an advertisement for "The Circus of the Damned".

While Dudley would normally have been 'too cool' for any sort of circus, he could not resist the idea of special effects involving zombies, vampires, and werewolves.

The poster featured a fanged figure standing over all sorts of supernatural creatures; the drawings were really quite good. Harry personally thought that the actual circus would be no where near as intriguing as the poster advertised- there was no way that they could do _that _much purely with makeup and special effects.

Harry almost laughed, wondering if the potion had affected the Dursley's hatred toward all things magical as Vernon needed little persuasion. They agreed to meet at the Circus later that evening after going their separate ways during the day. Petunia and Vernon had planned to spend the day shopping and at the local museum, while Harry and Dudley were planning to look at the various shops and arcades downtown.

Privately, Harry was hoping that he could convince Dudley to take a look at the 'separate' district in town. There was something about it, the 'otherness' that drew him to it like a moth to a flame.

It turned out that Dudley was not that hard to convince.

After spending a few hours wandering through town, Harry had managed to steer Dudley towards the division. The separation between the two areas was clear even from the ground; all of the people moving about kept to their own sides. No one crossed the border. Harry was about to drag Dudley across the invisible line when Dudley stopped suddenly.

"Harry, are you sure we should go over there? No one else is crossing the street…"

"Why, are you afraid, 'Big D'?" Harry asked, sounding shocked.

The pair only stood on the corner for a moment. All it took was a simple dare and a few jabs to Dudley's ego, and they were off.

Most of the businesses were closed, neon signs turned off. Harry was disappointed, he had hoped to see something more, well, _interesting. _

There were a few places that Harry was curious about. A place called "Guilty Pleasures", and then another called "The Laughing Corpse" caught his attention. The part of town seemed to lack its thrall in the daytime. Soon, the teenagers became bored, and moved back to the rest of St. Louis.

After visiting the famous St. Louis Arch, the pair went back downtown. There, they spent a while longer playing video games at a local arcade, but it was soon time to meet Vernon and Petunia at the Circus. They ate a quick dinner of the classical circus food – Hot dogs, fries, and sodas – before heading over to the main attraction.

Harry volunteered to go and get some fried delicacies called 'elephant ears' while the rest of his family found seats. As he walked back to the larger ring he began to get the feeling that the circus was not the hoax that he had originally thought it was. If it was, the special effects were the best he had ever seen. His suspicions were confirmed, though, as he walked past a woman performing with a snake… The snake was hissing, and she was hissing _back. _Harry thought it would be too much of a coincidence for a parseltongue to be performing at the "Circus of the Damned".

He put the questions revolving around the nature of the circus out of his mind as he hurried back to the Dursleys, not wanting to miss the beginning of the show.

"Look what I've got!" he called as he approached, smiling at them. He knew something was wrong when, instead of jumping up to greet him, they just stared stupidly.

"What the _bloody hell _are you doing here, freak?!" Vernon hissed in anger. Harry looked at him with wide, confused eyes.

"What? But what do you mean? _You _invited _me _here…" His voice started to waver.

"Why would we do that? Where's Marge?" Vernon's brows furrowed.

Harry looked at the crowd around them, and smirked inwardly as his eyes began to water.

"You don't love me anymore? WHY?!" People were beginning to stare, and Vernon was beginning to redden.

"WHY, Merl-GOD, WHY DON'T YOU LOVE ME?" inwardly, Harry was cackling madly. His inward laughter was only fueled by his Uncle's attempt to quiet him.

"Shhhh! Shut up, boy! Everyone's looking at us because of you. Just shut up, we'll talk after the show!"

Harry shrugged. He'd caused enough of a scene that people were staring at them, rather than the beginning of the main attraction. It was not as if he had not been expecting a confrontation with his relatives. He had simply decided to make the transition as difficult as possible for them. A bit of payback for the past 16 years.

Settling down, he noticed that there was indeed more to the circus than he had originally thought. A lone man had appeared onstage. Literally, appeared. Harry was unsure whether he had just been distracted, or if he had truly popped out of thin air.

The man opened his mouth, and began to speak. His voice rolled over the crowd like a soothing caress, promising them warmth, safety, and comfort – things that Harry was sure no man could give him. As much as Harry wanted to believe the reassuring voice, he was unable to.

The Dursleys were not so fortunate, evident by their glazed expressions. Harry amused himself for a short while by poking and prodding Dudley, to no effect. Of course, this was a limited source of amusement. He turned his attention back to the man, who was just introducing the next act.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, I present to you…. Melanie! Snake Woman and Snake Charmer Extraordinaire!"

Stepping out of the ring to enthusiastic applause, Harry noticed the glazed expression leave the Dursleys' faces. They began to come back to themselves as Melanie the snake woman took to the stage with her multitude of serpents.

They began to weave together in an intricate dance, hissing back and forth to each other. Harry had to choke back a laugh as he could just barely make out some of their conversation.

"_Left, go on my left! That vampire wants symmetry. Symmetry! Is he the one wrapping snakes around his body? No, all he has is that servant of his…_

_Stupid mortals… sitting there… staring at us. I'd like to see them attempt to even hold one of my babies… Idiots. They wouldn't know a piece of true magic if it bit them on the ass…Time to show them a small taste…"_

As their twining ended, the snakes slithered to the floor, while the snake woman began to move to her own rhythm. Smoothly, scales started spreading over her body, transforming her from a beautiful woman to a majestic snake.

The audience gasped and cheered. Most of them, anyway. The Dursleys were sitting pale-faced, gripping their seats. As one, they turned to look at him in horror.

"She's one of _your_ kind, isn't she?" hissed Aunt Petunia, sounding almost snake-like herself.

Harry answered honestly with a wave of his hand, "While I've never heard of anyone turning themselves into a snake before, especially like that, I suppose _anything_ is possible. She might not be a witch, but a true shapeshifter," Harry's eyes glittered with mirth, "Whatever she is; I can tell you she isn't _human…_"

He left them to that thought as he exited the ring to go to the restroom. This was it… Harry was giving the Dursleys their opportunity to discuss what to do about him. He had planned to give them the opportunity to leave him in St. Louis, or their next planned stop, in exchange for his plane ticket back to England. Figuring that he would be able to have the date and location changed to meet his needs, or that he would be able to find someone who could help him, Harry would be just find spending a few days by himself in America.

As Harry was off planning his immediate future, the Dursleys were plotting their own quick escape from the Circus.

"Come on Diddykins, let's get out of this place!" Petunia was trying to drag her son away from the entertainment. A tough feat, when the entertainment consists of a half-naked, exotically beautiful woman, and the entertainee is a close-to-300-pound teenage boy.

"Vernon," Petunia whispered, "Are you sure this is a good idea? What if the boy tells the other freaks that we mistreated him? What if the other freaks get… angry?"

"Petunia," he reasoned, "Have you seen that freak's _bird_ around anywhere? I believe he'd have a tough time getting it though customs." Vernon chuckled at her worried expression. "How about this… We'll give the boy five minutes to come back from the restroom, then leave. I'm sure he's got his _stick_ on him, he can handle himself."

The five minutes passed by quickly – more quickly than most five minutes, anyway – and the Dursleys had packed up their things and were moving toward the exit.

"But Vernon…" Petunia seemed quite concerned, "Are you _sure_ that we'll be okay? What if the freaks find out, and come after us?"

Vernon huffed. He really could not be convinced of the idea that the rest of the freaks could be bothered to track them all the way to America just because of one boy.

"Petunia!" He drew a breath to explain precisely why it would not matter if they left Harry at the circus. But the next act had begun, and it involved some strange rituals with more _shapeshifters_ and Vernon was ready to leave this place and all its _freakishness. _He summed up his thoughts in a few sentences.

"Bloody hell, Petunia- The boy's almost seventeen. He's almost of majority in _his _world. It doesn't matter. So stop worrying about _him _and _his_ kind… He's almost of age! Now, let's go!"

With that, he dragged his wife and son out the doors of the Circus of the Damned, leaving his unknowing nephew behind.

With a general idea of what to do and how to handle his newly 'sane' relatives, Harry made his way back to the Dursleys' seats. Or, what _had_ been their seats. His stomach dropped as he stared at the empty seats. This was something he had not planned on. Or even thought of.

The Dursleys had left him at the Circus of the Damned – With no way to get back to the hotel, let alone back to England. They had left _with his plane ticket._

He cursed the Dursleys as he flopped into his seat to try and think. Why had he not considered _this_ possibility? He should have thought to anticipate something like this, considering his relatives past behavior toward him. He supposed that their false kindness over the past weeks had weakened his memories of their real feelings.

Harry's anger began to rise. All of his undirected rage – at himself, for believing Dursleys would possibly behave rationally, civilly, like _normal _people towards him; at Dumbledore, for dying and leaving him this twisted puzzle; at Snape and the Death Eaters for leaving him without his mentor; and at Voldemort, for making his life so fucking _difficult_ – Now had a target to focus on.

Harry was having a hard time thinking, all he could do was feel. Livid feelings whirled about his head – a small breeze had started to blow around him. In the back of his mind, he knew that he could have anticipated this. Maybe even had, subconsciously. Harry knew he was being irrational, but he was just so _infuriated, _and had a single focus for his ire.

The remainder of the acts all passed by in a hazy blur as Harry sat and fumed; he only rose to go when he noticed the rest of the crowd doing so. As he moved, the crowd unconsciously stepped away from him, trying to avoid the upset wizard.

As he began wandering toward the exit, Harry was caught in his own world of fury at the Dursleys. Not noticing where he was going, he ended up making a few wrong turns, and did not notice until he was far into the maze of tunnels underneath the surface. His face scrunched in a mask of confusion, he walked a bit further while continuing to ponder his own problems.

Harry was fully knocked out of his stupor when he walked into a much taller frame, and bounced backwards slightly. While he would undoubtedly have caught himself had he been fully focused on the task at hand, his mind was elsewhere. Harry was knocked off balance and fell to the ground.

"Watch it." He spat, before remembering his manners, "Er, I mean…sorry," he huffed out. Picking himself up and dusting himself off, Harry raised his eyes to meet the strangers.

He was startled by what he saw. The man's face was half covered by his golden hair, but what Harry could see was strangely pretty for a man.

Smiling, the man opened his mouth to speak, "Lost, _mon ami?_" his gaze was compelling, and his voice too seemed to caress softly, and make promises Harry knew were truly lies.

Shaking his head, Harry found that he had been staring at the stranger. He frowned, as he chased away the remnants of the soothing feeling. He realized that most of his frustration had been chased away as well.

"No, I think I'm alright… Actually, if you could help me to the exit though, I'd really appreciate it."

The blond man's smile faltered. He stared intently at Harry.

"Are you _sure _you don't need some _help_?"

Harry looked back at him strangely. He repeated himself slowly, clearly enunciating his words, "Could you take me to the exit, please?" His words were stuck as he was distracted by the man's piercing blue eye staring at him, the other hidden by a curtain of hair. "Or, I could, er… Just find it myself…" Holding up his hands, Harry began to back away from the strange man.

The blond man looked at him strangely. "I am able to hear perfectly, _mon ami_. It is you who is… strange. I shall indeed escort you to the exit of this fine establishment, but first let me find you some refreshment to go with my apologies. I should have been paying more attention to where I was going."

Harry gave a choked sort of laugh, "It's no problem, no problem at all, Mister…"

"Asher. Just Asher." The man supplied. Harry had a sudden sense of déjà vu; recalling the moment almost six years ago when he had given a similar line to Hagrid. He smiled as he accepted the man's hand.

As soon as their skin touched, Harry felt a warm, soothing, tingling sensation creep through his body. He looked up at Asher, whose face had shifted into a still mask.

"What _are_ you?"

Asher took Harry's arm and turned around. The pair moved swiftly into the bowels of the Circus.

"Erm, are you sure we're going the right way? I thought the exit was the other way…"

"Quiet, child. I said I would find you refreshment and lead you to the exit. That is true. First, though, I feel you must meet with someone."

Asher led Harry to a modernly decorated sitting room. The walls were covered in rich toned silks while the furniture was all black and chrome. Harry was instructed to sit in one of the plush chairs, while Asher went to speak with the latest mystery-man.

Asher knocked on the door of Jean-Claude's office.

"Come in, _mon ami,"_ Upon seeing his friend's face, Jean-Claude asked him in a worried tone, "What is it that ails you, Asher?"

"There is a boy waiting outside. I've brought him to meet you. I can't quite explain it, but there is something odd about him. You must see for yourself…"

Jean-Claude looked confused for a moment, before his mask settled back into place. "But what do you mean…?"

"As I said, it is hard to explain. The boy is not a human, or a normal one, anyway. He knew I was not mortal either. But he did not know what I was. He resisted my eyes, seemed to think that I was 'slow'. That boy is not a shapeshifter, though, or like Anita." He ushered Jean-Claude to the small window that looked out to where Harry was sitting. "Look at him, he doesn't look like the others, either."

As Jean-Claude inspected the boy, he realized that he had to agree. While the boy appeared to be fairly normal, it was undeniable that there was something different. While he did hold himself differently, his posture was not that of a shapeshifter. It was more as if he was constantly on the defensive, constantly trying to ward off unspeakable evils. But he was also trying to hide it, and pretend everything was alright.

He sat casually, but as if he would be ready to run at any moment. And his hand kept straying toward his right pocket… The boy did not seem to notice the two pairs of eyes examining him, and was slouched in his chair, looking down.

Jean-Claude supposed that there was not a whole lot that was special about him, when you just looked at the surface. Sure, he did not sit like a typical mortal, but there was something else about him… something that he just _felt_.

Something occurred to him, as he watched. He turned to his friend.

"Asher, how did you meet this boy?"

"We collided outside my office."

Jean-Claude raised an eyebrow. "How did he get all the way into the depths of the circus? How did you know there was something… special?"

Asher looked slightly guilty. Trying to divert Jean-Claude's attention, he answered the former first, "I cannot say that I know. He has a British accent. I believe he's a lost tourist."

"I see. Did you try to roll him, _mon ami_?"

Looking even more guilty, Asher nodded his assent.

"Just how old do you think that boy is? Fourteen? Fifteen? You know the rules."

"You have not seen his eyes, they speak of old age. I did not realize at first… It was just another strange occurrence with the boy. I felt the need to test him, to test my seduction. There has not been any sort of challenge, recently.

I had been contemplating the skill it used to take to roll the mortals. Now, they are willing to drop at our feet. Do you not miss the test of your skills?"

Jean-Claude sighed. He knew what Asher meant.

"Very well. We shall have a chat about this later. Bring him in."

Asher glided back out the door and led Harry back in. Jean-Claude stood to meet them.

"Hello. Allow me to introduce myself… I am Jean-Claude, owner of this establishment."

Harry looked back at Asher in confusion. Why would he want him to meet the owner of the Circus? Again, taking the offered hand, Harry felt the same strange, comforting warmth spread through him. He did not trust these people.

"Neville," he said, "Neville Black." Uttering a silent apology to his school friend for the continual theft of his name, he released Jean-Claude's hand.

Harry stared at the two men in front of him, eyes darting back and forth between them. Whatever these two were, it was not human.

"You're the same. Both of you… What _are _you?"

Asher and Jean-Claude exchanged a glance. "You see, _mon ami_? I told you he was different. He can tell."

Jean-Claude nodded, before moving behind his black lacquered desk. He smoothed his cerulean silk suit and stared at Harry intently.

"I believe the question, Mister… Black," he looked at Harry sharply, as if knowing he was lying, "Is what are _you_?"

Harry felt his anger creeping back in. Who were these people to crash into him, drag him through underground tunnels, and then question him? They had no right to do that. All he was trying to do was get back home.

"I'm nothing. Perfectly normal. There is nothing bloody different about me. All I was trying to do was get out of this damned circus, when your _friend_ and I crashed. Then _he_ dragged me down here with no explanation. Whatsoever. And how about those refreshments, hmm?"

Asher started. "Oh, yes… Of course…" He gave Jean-Claude a significant look. "I shall return shortly."

Jean-Claude and Harry stared across the table at each other. Harry did not want to break the silence. Jean-Claude just wanted to study the young boy. He leaned forward, and the next words out of his mouth were not at all what Harry had expected.

"Would you care for a cookie, child?"


End file.
